


The Nerve of Some People

by nightflyer42



Category: Hannibal (TV)
Genre: Almost Crack, Established Relationship, Fluff, Hannibal is a Cannibal, Jealousy, M/M, Murder Husbands
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-01-09
Updated: 2017-01-09
Packaged: 2018-09-15 21:31:36
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 788
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/9258101
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/nightflyer42/pseuds/nightflyer42
Summary: Hannibal is too hot for his own good and Will is annoyed.





	

**Author's Note:**

> This happened because of tumblr. The beach came up in a conversation and I decided that I have kept the boys in the cold sorting out their feeling for too long. So, here's some beach fluff/crack for you. It's horribly cliché, but I still enjoyed writing it.

The sound of water had always been calming to Will. The quiet patter of raindrops on the roof, the gurgling of the stream behind his house, the roiling waves of the sea – he enjoyed them all. Listening to the calm murmur of the Mediterranean, he stretched on his lounger and buried his toes in the sand, eyes idly seeking Hannibal among the swimmers. After their long recuperation, Hannibal was almost obsessive about getting their strength back. There were few pools up to his standards and he claimed that swimming in the sea was much more taxing for the body, so they went to the beach every day. Will checked his watch. _Any time now_. And just like clockwork, Hannibal walked out of the waves, sweeping the droplets of water from his face and looking like some ancient deity of the depths. Maybe not those with the tentacles, though.

He perched on the other lounger and gave his hair and body a cursory swipe with the towel.

“I think I am ready for a drink now,” he said, nodding at the bar. Will was busy following several stray drops of water as they travelled down Hannibal’s chest. He shook the impulse to lean forward and lick them and nodded absent-mindedly, “Okay, go ahead. I’ll pack here and I’ll join you.”

Hannibal smirked at him and looped the towel around his neck, grabbed his sunglasses and strode off towards the bar. Will followed his progress, certain that he didn’t have to swing his hips so much. It was obscene, really, and people were staring. He could have put some pants on.

Will quickly collected their clothes, Hannibal’s e-reader and his own thrash thriller novel. By the time he was ready, he could see Hannibal perched on a barstool, discussing something with the bartender and pointing to different bottles of alcohol. There was an empty stool right next to him.

Just as Will shouldered the bag and finished rooting around the sand for his sandals, he looked up again; there was a woman in the stool, in tiny neon green bikini. She was talking to Hannibal, gesticulating to the glass in front of him, laughing loudly; then she leaned in and _touched his shoulder_.

Hackles raised, Will hurried across the sand, eyes burning holes in the back of the woman, whose braying laughter carried across the beach. Hannibal was looking at her with a small polite smile, nodding. Once or twice he glanced at Will over her shoulder, his eyes crinkling with mirth. Will didn’t think it was funny.

Finally he reached his destination. Walking across the bar, he stood behind the woman and very calmly and politely gritted through his teeth, “Excuse me, I believe you are in my seat.”

The woman turned around; she was young, rich and apparently spoiled. _Christ, who wears diamond studs to the beach?_ “And who the Hell are you?” she asked, looking over her lowered sunglasses.

“I’m the man whose seat you are sitting in,” Will explained patiently.

The woman looked him up and down, noted the lack of expensive swimwear, expensive jewelry and expensive sunglasses, and apparently decided he wasn’t worth her time, so she just turned back to Hannibal, placed her manicured nails on his forearm and leaned closed to him to whisper theatrically, “Can you believe the nerve of some people?”

Hannibal smirked a little and pointedly extracted his arm.

“Indeed. I’d love to chat more, but as I said, I have a previous engagement. Let’s go, Will.”

The woman opened and closed her mouth several times, looking between Hannibal and Will, before something apparently clicked in her brain and she made a face.

“Oh. You’re one of _them_. Could have told me not to waste my time.”

Hannibal took a deep breath, grabbed Will’s hand and they headed towards the car.

***

“No, Hannibal!”

“But, Will, she was incredibly rude. I had almost decided even before she spoke to you in that manner.”

“I said no; I don’t care how rude she was. It would cause trouble and I like it here, I don’t want to move.”

“They don’t have to find the body, Will. And I have a recipe I’ve been meaning to try out.” Hannibal was pouting, honest to God pouting, with his eyes all brown and sad… how was Will supposed to resist?

“Okay, okay, just this once. You can’t eat every rude person you come across, you know.”

“I can certainly try,” Hannibal objected, all prim and proper.  Will groaned, hiding his face in his hands. Hannibal was impossible. And yet, the woman had been _extremely_ unpleasant, touching what wasn’t hers without permission.

 He reached out and grasped Hannibal’s hand “Okay then, tell me about the recipe.”


End file.
